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To Extension, or not to Extension…

January 13, 2011

Long Hair, Long Eyelashes, Long Nails… If you’re like me, you want it all. And you want it now.

The bigger, the better. But at what cost?

In a world where nobody is perfect (but for $400 you can come pretty close), women have always strived to achieve classic beauty.

Society and Mattel have told us that long, luscious, shiny, healthy hair is beautiful. Dead, dry, ratty, kinky, thin, average, shoulder length hair, sloppily slicked back in a pony-tail is not.

Cosmetics companies bombard us with new mascaras that claim to lengthen, darken, thicken, curl, grow, define, discover, plump, renew, boost, volumise and vibrate our lashes. Because the ones we were born with are not good enough anymore.

And as the owner of a nail polish box so big, it could manicure an army of drag queens, I have probably spent more nights on the couch with it than with my boyfriend. It’s been a decade long love affair.

Yet we hear the same story: short, bitten, dirty, flakey, uneven, chipped, boyish nails suit very few. We want O.P.I nails. Long, but not too long. Healthy, shiny and smooth, with a beautiful on-trend colour or a naturally flawless nude, only seen truly perfected on a photoshopped wall poster mounted in a suburban nail salon.

But back to hair extensions. A fad I have struggled with for many years now. To extension, or not to extension.

As a child, I had long luscious hair. Rarely cutting more than an inch off per year, it grew into a full mane of multi-coloured locks. Oh yes, while I shunned the hairdresser’s scissors, I embraced the vast array of rebellious and permanent hair dyes ava

ilable from Priceline; much to my parent’s disappointment. Barbie Pinks, Groovy Grapes and Fiery Reds were my shades of choice until I turned 16 and decided that White was going to be ‘my new thing’. My parents turned a blind eye as I began wrapping my head in GladWrap, hair soaked in a blue coloured bleach/peroxide mix (also known as poison), and cooking my roots to an inch of their life. By the time I was 18 (which also happened to be Paris Hilton’s hey-day, I might add) I was sporting a white blonde, blue-toned, dead mop of chemically crucified semi- hair. The ends were gone. Snapped off. They weren’t split. They were non-existent.

The only option left to fulfill my life long quest for perfection was to investigate hair extensions. Weaves. Wefts. Hairpieces. Wigs. Clip ins. Call them what you may. I don’t care where the hair came from. Just as long as I can pass it off as my own.

To cut a very long story slightly shorter, I have since spent the last 6 years trying them all. After my bleaching escapades as a teen I now no longer can grow hair longer than my shoulders, so hair extensions have become my best friend, and my worst enemy.

I give them names, brush them at night, wash them with my expensive shampoo and give them weekly leave in treatments (it’s all about the protein). I have spent more money having them glued, taped and woven into my scalp than I care to mention, and the trauma of having them taken out has caused me serious emotional damage, I think I will need ‘hair counselling’ for the rest of my life. When they are in and looking amazing, you are invincible. When they are out and you are faced with the devastating fact that you have hardly any hair left, the stress of a ‘bad hair day’ doesn’t really cover it.

Answer? Simple. Have them glued in all time. Well, unfortunately for me, the years of mistreating my locks has left me with fine, brittle, easily broken hair, which is likely to matt (dreadlock style) if anything is tangled up in it for too long. I spend two months in sheer elation as I get to rock around town with my taped/glued/woven in hair extensions. It’s like a new outfit. People approach me on the street and stroke my tresses. “OMG I looooove your hair… is it real?” they say. “No”, I tell them, and proceed to explain how amazing this new kind of hair extension is and how my hair definitely will NOT turn into a mass dreadlock, like the last time.

But alas, it always does. I have a very large suitcase filled with hair. Ok, that sounds weird. I have a big bag full of all of my old hair extensions. Over the years my hair has gone from white blonde with glue extensions, to white blonde with clip ins, to white blonde with a half wig piece, to dark brown clip ins, light brown clip ins, golden brown pony tail pieces, red brown tape extensions, red weave extensions, to a light red half wig piece. Friends come and go, but these hair extensions stay with me for life.

They are the absolute bane of my existence. But I can’t stay mad at Barbarella, Clipsy, Tahnee or Jessie for too long.













Tantalizing Hair Extensions, Bentleigh- Best place for woven in hair extensions (ask for Andrea).

Princess Avenue, South Yara- Best place for clip in pieces (human and synthetic).

One Comment leave one →
  1. Renee permalink
    January 14, 2011 12:16 pm

    amazing; literary genius!

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